


Obviously Oblivious

by leista



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:17:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leista/pseuds/leista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Written for this prompt at the suits meme:  Donna writes Harvey/Mike fanfiction...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obviously Oblivious

 

~

Donna was jabbing at the computer keys with a single-minded determination that Harvey had seen all too often when someone was stupid enough to get on her bad side. He cleared his throat, but that wasn't enough to break her concentration.   
  
Harvey tapped his fingers on her desk, and the speed of fingers over keys tapered off to a standstill. Donna flipped her hair triumphantly, jabbed the enter key, and looked up at him.  
  
“How can I help you, sir?” she smiled sweetly.   
  
He quelled a since of foreboding, a feeling that all was wrong in the world and that he was in some strange, frightening episode of The Twilight Zone.   
  
“What are you up to and how do I get out of it with my dignity intact?”  
  
“Moi, up to something,” Donna put a hand to her chest, clearly offended, except for a crinkle at the corner of her eyes giving away a hint of amusement. “How could you think such a thing?”  
  
Harvey shook his head; he had more important things to deal with. He didn't think about the incident for the rest of that day.   
  
*  
  
Mike felt like there was something amiss the next morning. He saw people smirking at him out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head they were looking the other direction or focusing on some important paperwork. Except for Donna. She was all smiles and surprisingly helpful. Mike didn't question it—he was too thankful for the help.   
  
Especially since their case just fell out from under them, and they lost their lead witness. He was on his way to run a few prospects by Harvey when he bumped into Rachel. Literally. That's what he gets for reading while walking.   
  
“Uh, sorry about that,” He muttered, snapping the file closed. Rachel opened her mouth, but Mike's phone rang and he gave her an apologetic smile.  
  
“Get your ass to my office, Mike.”   
  
Mike winced and jerked the phone away from his ear. “I'm on my--” the other end of the line went dead. “way...”  
  
“Wow, that was loud.” Rachel said.  
  
“Yeah, Harvey's really riding me hard,” Mike said, “this case—“  
  
Rachel snorted a laugh, then covered her mouth with a hand. “Sorry, having trouble with the case?”  
  
“Yeah, I've got to—“ he waved the file, then pointed it in the opposite direction.  
  
“Right,” Rachel said, “don't let him be too hard on you.”  
  
“Harvey's always hard,” Mike muttered, “on everybody,” then wondered what was up with Rachel when a peal of laughter echoed down the hall after him.  
  
*  
  
  
Mike was absently wondering if Rachel been to the dentist recently since nitrous could cause the giggles like that, plus her teeth  _had_  looked really white and shiny when she was laughing at whatever had been so funny. He had a bad feeling that, whatever it was, it was at his expense.   
  
He ran into Harvey and Louis, too focused on arguing with one another to notice him, as they headed for the elevator. Mike glared at Harvey from across the room.  _Oh, that's fair. Yell at me to go to your office and you're not even there yet._  
  
Mike stopped pouting long enough to catch up and handed over the file to Harvey as he stepped into the elevator, then stared when Louis started babbling.   
  
“You know, maybe I should just take the stairs; it would be better for my health and there's always the possibility that the elevator could—“ Louis' words cut off as he ran into the elevator doors at his back. They had slid closed while he inched backwards. “Never mind.” He stepped to the far corner of the elevator and studied his shoes.   
  
Mike looked a question at Harvey, who shrugged, as if to say  _it's Louis; how the hell am I supposed to know what he's up to?_  
  
“You know, I never really appreciate how comfortable these shoes are,” Louis said, glancing from the floor to the walls, avoiding catching either of their eyes at all costs. “And they're not even all that expensive-not that money is an issue; it's just that it's never a bad thing to be fru—oh, good we're here.” He brushed past them and was halfway to his office before Harvey and Mike could do more than blink at each other.  
  
*  
  
Harvey had no sooner sat down in his office, Mike absently fondling one of his baseballs as they discussed the case, when Donna slipped in.  
  
“Jessica needs to see you in her office. Immediately. Both of you.” Her chipper mood had fled, leaving in its place a faint worry line between her brows and pursed lips. “Harvey, I—“ she started.  
  
“You said immediately, right?” Harvey interrupted, already striding to the door, Mike following, “We'll talk later.”  
  
*  
  
“Now that I think about it, it's so  _obvious,_ ” an anonymous voice stage whispered as Harvey and Mike navigated the forest of cubicles.  
  
Harvey broke stride, glanced around, but didn't know who it was or what they meant, so he kept walking. Mike noticed that Gregory was smirking wider than any of the other associates present, and threw a glare his way.  
  
“Uh-oh, you've made Mike mad,” another voice jeered, “now he's gonna grab Harvey by the tie and drag him the nearest conference room so they can have angry sex.”  
  
Harvey spun around on his heel and raised a brow at Mike, as if to ask  _What was that all about?_  Though he didn't look near as angry about it as Mike would have expected. Mike shrugged, then followed on Harvey's heels to keep from having to hear any more unsettling comments.  
  
“Oh Harvey,” a falsetto, obviously masculine voice simpered as they reached the doorway. “Don't stop. You're the best boss ever.”  
  
“Mike,” a more gruff voice rumbled from across the room, “Mmm, your ass is so hot and tight. I'm gonna fu—“  
  
“Alright, children,” Harvey said lightly, but Mike saw the tense set of his shoulders. “Who gave you permission to record a pornographic audiobook at the office?” The hitherto silent (except for the obvious) room was working alive with the sound of shuffling papers, the click of computer keys, and the murmur of a few voices on phone calls. “Mike and Harvey, though,” he said with a tilt of his head, “great names.”  
  
  
*  
  
Mike didn't know whether to giggle, cringe, or run away, so he followed Harvey's lead and continued on their way to Jessica's office.  
  
“Harvey?” He ventured hesitantly.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“What—what was that all about?”  
  
“No idea,” he said cheerfully, holding the door to Jessica's office open for him.  
  
*  
  
  
“Harvey, we take inter-office relationships very seriously. I'm sure you know that.”  
  
“Of course, very seriously. But that doesn't explain why—“  
  
Jessica held up a hand. “Let me finish.”   
  
Harvey shut his mouth, but he wasn't happy about it. He wondered exactly how much flirting Mike had done with Rachel _this_  time to warrant this particular bitchout. And why he had to be here for it.  
  
Mike noticed a faint quirk to Jessica's lips, a smile not quite hidden.  _Whatever the hell this is about, she's_  enjoying  _it_ . Mike didn't think that she was the sadistic sort, but that still didn't calm his nerves.  
  
“If it were to be discovered, lets say, that a senior partner were in a relationship with his or her associate, that would not only constitute a conflict of interests and possible favoritism, but would also be highly unprofessional,  _not to mention_  how negatively it would reflect the firm. Understood?”  
  
“Understood,” Harvey said, and Mike nodded.  
  
“Since that's out of the way, I need a favor. There's a high profile client vacationing in Miami--”  
  
“But we've got—“ Mike stopped mid sentence when two sets of eyes leveled him with equally intimidating glares. “Sorry.”   
  
Harvey turned from Mike to Jessica. “But we've got our hands full here with-”  
  
“Louis is going to take the reins on the-”  
  
“Louis? Why's it always got to be Louis?”  
  
“Because, believe it or not, Louis is good at his job. And I would appreciate it if you'd stop interrupting.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Good,” Jessica said, handing over a hefty file, “familiarize yourself with the details.”   
  
“Um, sorry, but why did I need to be here?” Mike asked.  
  
Jessica tilted her head, that faint smirk spreading before disappearing behind a bland mask. “Didn't I make it obvious? You're going too.”  
  
“I have to take the kid along?”  
  
“I'm not a kid!”  
  
“Come on, Harvey, it'll be good for him. Showing him the ins and outs, if you will, of wooing a client. Take him under your wing and show him a little of that romance.”  
  
Harvey didn't know what the hell was going on, but Jessica's eyes didn't take on that particular shine unless she was up to something. And he had a feeling that he was her guinea pig. But Harvey Specter was no one's guinea pig. So he would have to take on the source of this...whatever it was. He had a good idea who was to blame..  
  
He agreed to go see the stuffy old man in Miami, and take Mike along, but his mind was already elsewhere.  
  
“You leave in four hours.”   
  
Harvey gave a curt “Okay,” and started for the door.  
  
Mike nodded respectfully.  
  
“Just make sure you don't get drunk and sleep together.” Then she winked.   
  
She  _winked_  at Mike, and he understood. He'd lost his mind. It was as simple as that. Right now, he was probably in some padded room somewhere hallucinating this entire thing. That  _had_  to be it, right? Right?  
  
He glanced at Harvey, but he wasn't paying attention, already walking out. He gave one more wide-eyed look to Jessica and had to fight a blush as she seemed to look straight through him.  _But I—how did—she's a—why?_   
  
He retreated quickly, weighing the pros and cons of hiding under his desk. Mike didn't know where Jessica got her information, but it was obvious that she was either trying to get him in Harvey's pants, or just drive him insane.   
  
Either way, he was screwed.  
  
*  
  
Harvey made a beeline for Donna, then splayed a hand over her computer monitor when she didn't look up right away. She jumped, then punched the button to turn off the screen. Harvey glanced from her reflection in the black monitor, through the smudge his hand had left, back to her.   
  
“I need you to tell me something, and I need you to do it now.”  
  
She bit her lip, trying to look innocent. “What do you need?”  
  
“Louis. What's he up to?”  
  
“I don't..” Some of the tension eased as Donna relaxed back into her chair. “I'll get right on it.”  
  
“If you don't already know, don't worry about it,” Harvey said over his shoulder, already on his way to Louis' office. He'd just have to go to the source.  
  
*  
  
“What can I do you for? For you. I meant, what can I do for you?” Louis asked.  
  
“You can tell me what you're up to, for one thing.”  
  
“What I'm—“ Louis laughed, loud and fake, “I'm not up to anything.”  
  
Harvey crossed his arms.  
  
“Fine,” Louis dug a few sheets of paper out of his desk and handed them over.  
  
Harvey skimmed the first page, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is this?”  
  
“It's uh, erotica.”  
  
“I had that much figured out by the copious use of the words ass, thrust, and lick.”  
  
“Then what—“  
  
“You know exactly what. Two names jumped out at me. Two very familiar names.”   
  
“Just so you know, I didn't write it,” Louis said, blocking Harvey's glare with a hand.  
  
“Then why do you,” Harvey waved the pages in his face.  
  
“It was sent en mass as an email to the majority of the firm.”  
  
Oh, God, why me? “Who sent it?”  
  
Louis shrugged, looked away. “It was sent from a random account. No way of knowing.”  
  
“Right, then that leaves just one question.” Harvey said, straightening the papers in his hand.  
  
“What's that?”  
  
“What reason could you possible have,” he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “for printing the damn thing out?” he growled.  
  
“Well, you see, I—“  
  
Harvey was already out of his office before Louis could splutter an acceptable excuse. He really,  _really_  didn't want to know.  
  
  
*  
  
Mike dropped his head on his desk and refused to do anything on the grounds that his brain wasn't working. He jumped when someone, Harvey of course, cleared his throat behind him.   
  
“Nice drawing,” Harvey nodded to the post-it stuck to the middle of Mike's computer screen. The steady background noise of people pecking at keys went quiet as Harvey took the pornographic stick-figure drawing off the computer and studied it.   
  
“Why does that one have three leg—oh.” He turned it sideways and tried to read a hastily-scrawled word with an arrow pointing to the figure. The author had been kind enough to label his work. How sweet. He finally realized that three-legs was labeled Harvey.   
  
“Whoever drew this, I think I like them,” Harvey said blandly.  
  
Thunk. Harvey turned to see that Mike's head had made rather forceful contact with his desk. He squinted at the drawing again, wondering if it were physically possible for Mike to get it that particular position (of the stick-figure that was his namesake). Then he stopped that particular train of thought before it could leave the station.   
  
He crumpled up the erotic work of art and tossed it in the trash.  
  
*  
  
Mike felt Harvey at his back, leaning over him.   
  
“You okay?” he asked quietly, mouth next to Mike's ear. It did double duty to keep his reputation as a hardass who didn't care about anyone safe and give the gossipmongers something to talk about.  
  
“Mmm, wonderful.”  _I think my boss's boss is trying to get me to bone my boss. No big deal._  
  
Mike sat up straight and swiveled his chair around, which would have been fine if Harvey hadn't been standing so close, leaning over him. As it was, he wound up staring at Harvey from all too close, his head bumping Harvey's chin as he looked up at him. He slid the chair and Harvey straightened.  
  
Harvey did a come with me head tilt and Mike got up and followed him.  
  
*   
  
Harvey didn't say anything until they were in the relative privacy of his office. Then, he just dug the pages out of his pocket and handed them over to Mike with a gruff, “What do you think of this?”  
  
Mike's eyes scanned the first page, then he flipped to the second and his jaw dropped. “Harvey, I—I—wow, that's really explicit, but why are you...you're an attractive guy, but—“  
  
“Any idea who wrote it?” Harvey had the good grace to stop Mike before he flushed any redder or made the situation even _more_  awkward.  
  
“How am I supposed to know?”  
  
Harvey felt the beginnings of a headache pounding at his left temple. “You know what? This is your fault.”  
  
“What?”   
  
“If you didn't hero worship me, then people wouldn't make assumptions that we—“ Harvey jabbed a finger at Mike's handful o'porn.  
  
Mike set his shoulders. “I don't  _hero worship_ —you know what I think?  _I_  think it's all  _your_  fault.”  
  
“Is that so?” Harvey really wanted to hear this.  
  
“You're the one who 'doesn't care,'” Mike felt smug that his use of air quotes made Harvey roll his eyes, “yet keeps making googly eyes at  _me_ .”  
  
 _“Googly eyes?”_  
  
“I bet that's what whoever wrote this,” Mike waved the now-crumpled pages around violently, “was thinking when they wrote it.”  
  
“I've never made googly eyes at anyone,  _ever._  Especially not you.” Harvey was not going to let that slide.  
  
“Please. You want to break off a piece of this Kit Kat bar and everyone knows it.”  
  
Harvey opened his mouth, indignant, but huffed out a soft laugh. There was no way he could take that last comment seriously.  
  
“Are you high?” He asked suddenly, thinking puzzle pieces were sliding into place.  
  
“What? No!”  
  
Harvey gave him a penetrating look.  
  
“I'm not high! Want me to pee in a cup? I will.”  
  
Harvey believed him. He crossed his office and dropped onto the couch.  
  
“So?” Mike asked after a long moment.  
  
“So, what?”  
  
“What do we do?”  
  
Harvey rubbed a hand over his face. “Pretend that it doesn't exist and maybe it'll go away?” He leaned back and threw an arm over his face.  
  
“Or we could just make a sex tape and everyone would forget about this,” Mike said, eying the document reproachfully. “Like I would really call you  _sir_  in bed.”   
  
Harvey sat back up, cleared his throat, and refused to look at Mike.  
  
“Sorry, sorry. That was...unnecessary.” He hesitated for a moment. “It's better that  _daddy_ at least. Oh, wait, never mind. That's on page four.”  
  
“Mike!” Harvey gritted his teeth. “You can stop reading now.”  
  
“How else are we going to find out who wrote it?”  
  
 _“Then at least stop the commentary.”_  
  
“Woah, page four is-”  
  
“What did I just say?”  
  
“But it's so-”  
  
“Mike.” Harvey did  _not_  say it petulantly. He was just very tired all of a sudden.  
  
*  
  
“Wow,” Mike said, flopping down next to Harvey on the couch as he finished the last page.  
  
“What now?” Harvey was staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the fact that Mike was sitting too close.  
  
“It's—this is,” Mike cleared his throat. “There's something familiar about this.”  
  
Harvey snapped his head up. “I think I would remember  _that,_ ” he nodded to the sheaf of paper that Mike was still staring it, “with more than a passing familiarity.”  
  
“That's not what I meant,” Mike really did blush easily, Harvey mused as he watched the flush creep down his neck.  
  
“There's something about the writing here,” he handed it over and pointed out the end to Harvey, “I think that whoever wrote this knows us both pretty well.”  
  
Harvey read the last few lines, swallowed, nodded, looked up at Mike then back at the paper. “I think you're right.”   
  
Mike fidgeted, “Except for the, y'know.”  
  
“Right. Except for that.” Then Harvey noticed that he was fidgeting too, and damned if he was going to let some idiot make him feel that uncomfortable around his associate. He was more professional than that.  
  
“Go home, get packed.” He said, getting to his feet. “I'll pick you up in around an hour and we'll head for the airport.”  
  
“Aye aye, sir.” Mike said, suddenly a lot more relaxed.  
  
“This is a business trip, Mike. Not a vacation.”  
  
“I know that,” he said defensively.  
  
“I better not even hear you think about taking a Hawaiian shirt or anything half as garish.”   
  
“Pff, as if I even own any,” Mike said with a laugh, though Harvey thought he heard a muttered “you ruin all my fun,” as Mike turned and started out of the office.  
  
Harvey shook his head.  _This is going to be interesting._  
  
*  
  
 _Interesting is one word for it,_  Harvey groused, shrugging a shoulder to try to dislodge Mike's head. He'd fallen asleep shortly after takeoff, head back against the headrest and mouth hanging open. Then he'd started to inch in his sleep, head drooping to the side until it fell on Harvey's shoulder.   
  
Mike just mumbled something in his sleep, rubbed his cheek against his impromptu pillow, and started to snore faintly.  
  
 _That's it._  Harvey jabbed Mike in the side and he straightened up with a quick apology, then his eyes started to droop again immediately. He really needed to get more sleep at night.  
  
Harvey stifled a sigh as Mike's head lolled to the side and wound up back on his shoulder.  _If he drools on my suit he's buying me a new one,_ Harvey though, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. He checked his watch.  _Just another hour, is that all?_  Hew dropped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes.  
  
*  
  
After they got off the plane, Mike at his side, still groggy and half asleep with his hair tousled, Harvey checked his phone. Three voicemail messages. The first was a message from Donna:  _“Harvey, I really need to tell you something. Get back to me.”_  The second was from Jessica: “ _Damn_ ,” Harvey heard a melodramatic sigh over the line,  _“I guess you're already on the plane. Mr. Adams no longer has need of our services, so just take the day off and get a flight back tomorrow. Or the next day.”_  Harvey heard the faint murmur of another voice, followed by a low laugh from Jessica. “ _Show Mike some of the sights and take it easy_ .”   
  
Harvey  _knew_  he was in some alternate reality because there was no way that Jessica had just said that. She would have had him headed back on the very next flight in normal circumstances. Not that he was complaining. He did  _not_  look forward to another plane ride with Mike drooling on his shoulder.   
  
The third message was Donna: “ _Me again. Nevermind about that thing I needed to talk to you about. It's taken care of._ ” Harvey shook his head and hailed a cab, heading for their hotel.  
  
*  
  
“Swanky,” Mike said, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightly lit lobby from the dusky dark outside. He stopped a few steps inside to study a mural painted on the far wall.   
  
“You think so?” Harvey asked, a little pleased at Mike's wide-eyed wonder at place's somewhat garish attempt at elegance.  
  
“Well, yeah—ooh, there's a bar.” Mike made a beeline for the more muted, dimly lit room off of the main lobby. Harvey grabbed his shoulder and steered Mike toward the main desk to check in, throwing him a little off balance as the overnight bag on his shoulder swayed violently.   
  
“Later,” he said, trusting that Mike would follow him as he checked them in and headed for the elevator.  
  
*  
  
Harvey sipped his drink, propped on the hardwood bar, and wondered why the hell he'd thought that this was a good idea. Mike was standing to his left, in an animated conversation with the bartender, leaning over the bar with his ass sticking out in the air. Harvey was just nursing his drink since Mike was already slurring his words. He was only half-listening until he heard his name.  
  
“And-and I think, I  _think_  that Harvey's boss wants us to sleep together.”  
  
“Is that so?” The bartender asked, her voice mild, amused.   
  
“Yeah. That's so.”  
  
Harvey leaned down a little to get a better look at Mike's face. “What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
Mike jumped, as if he'd forgotten that he was there. Slightly unfocused eyes turned to him.  
  
“Yeah, Yeah. Jessica. She wants me to jump your bones. Or you to jump or something about sleeping and sex.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Harvey said, wondering if Mike was just rambling nonsense or if he knew something important that he didn't.  
  
“So. So.” He straightened up, ignoring the now-grinning bartender as he bumped into Harvey's shoulder. “D'you wanna?” He asked, brows impossibly high. The alcohol fumes emanating from him were nearly toxic, and Harvey wondered if he'd downed a few drinks when he wasn't looking.  
  
When Harvey just gaped at him for a long minute, Mike grinned. “Thata yes?” He pulled Harvey into a half-hug, making him slide off the stool to keep from falling. Harvey extricated himself from clingy arms as he felt a sloppy kiss right below his ear.  
  
“Okay, you've had enough,” Harvey said, slapping down some money (He faintly wondered how big of a tip he'd left when the bartender called “have a good evening!” after him.) and steered a very unsteady Mike out of the bar. He was trying to ignore the way that his mouth had gone dry and his brain had shut down when Mike had... _Oh, Hell._  
  
*  
  
“Lightweight,” he muttered affectionately—no he was pissed off at Mike for getting drunk, not amused.   
  
“You're smart.”  
  
“I know,” Harvey said distractedly, trying to keep Mike from tripping over his own feet.  
  
“Also kind of a jerk,” he said as Harvey jabbed the button and they waited for the elevator.  
  
“I know,” Harvey repeated, wondering how  _the hell_  Mike was that drunk already, flushed and grinning.  
  
Mike leaned in again, lips almost touching his ear, breath hot, “I like it. S'hot.”  
  
“I-” Harvey realized what he'd said, “what?”  
  
“Hmm?” Mike asked pleasantly, swaying a little, distracted by the ping of the elevator and the doors sliding open.  
  
They stumbled into the elevator, and Harvey let Mike stand on his own for long enough to press the third floor button. He swayed precariously, but they made it to their room without mishap. Mike dropped onto his bed, face down, and was snoring before Harvey made his way to the shower.  
  
He still hadn't moved when Harvey got out of the shower. He shook his head, tugged off the idiot's shoes, and tossed them to the floor.  
  
*  
  
Harvey woke up and kicked off his blanket. It was humid and hot as hell outside, but there was no reason that the A/C should be—he noticed an arm slung over his waist. How he missed that to begin with, he had no idea. The puff of breath against the back of his neck was even more noticeable, as was the sleepy murmur of words and faint brush of lips against his neck as Mike said something unintelligible in his sleep.  
  
Harvey gave a world-weary,  _the things I have to put up with_  sigh and tried to get back to sleep. There was no way he would let Mike Ross run him out of his own bed.  
  
After a few long minutes of discomfort over the fact that he didn't feel uncomfortable with Mike lying with him, chest-to-back close, arm still round him possessively, Harvey finally drifted to sleep.   
  
*  
  
He woke the next morning to discover a perplexing problem he hadn't noticed the night before in his half-asleep state. He'd turned to face Mike in his sleep, and woke to an interesting sight.  
  
“Mike?”  
  
“Mmm?” Mike didn't even twitch.   
  
“Why are you naked?”  
  
Another hum, followed by a grunt, and Mike moved impossibly closer, throwing a leg over him, baring a pale hip as the blanket slipped down.  
  
Harvey was torn between embarrassment oh Mike's behalf, discomfort ( _not_  arousal) at Mike's morning wood against his thigh, distraction as Mike nuzzled his chest in his sleep, and triumphant amusement over the fact that he would  _never_  let Mike live this down.  
  
It would have been easy for Harvey to roll out of bed and save them both a lot of awkwardness, but he didn't. He carded his fingers through Mike's hair and waited for him to wake up. For optimum embarrassment.  
  
Mike's eyes slid open, bleary and still half-sleeping. He pulled his arms over his head and stretched, popping his back before flopping back onto the pillow and finally noticing Harvey.  
  
“Uhhh,” he says eloquently, scrambling as far away as possible without falling off the bed. He made a grab for the blanket and wrapped it around his waist.  
  
“Good morning,” Harvey said evenly, leveling a steady glare at Mike, trying his best not to laugh as he panicked.  
  
“I, uh, I...Oh, shit.” Mike dropped his head into his hands.  
  
“Something you would like to share with the class?”  
  
“Harvey, I am  _so_  sorry. I was drunk and I really—“  
  
“You got drunk, propositioned your boss, then got naked and hopped into bed with him.” Harvey tried for a severe tone, and by the blush creeping up Mike's neck, it worked.  
  
“Please don't fire me.”   
  
“Under one condition,” Harvey said.  
  
Mike looked up.  
  
Harvey tilted his head, letting the smug grin finally slip into place. “Admit it.”  
  
“Admit what?”  
  
“That you want to, as you put it last night, jump my bones.”  
  
“But I don't-”  
  
Harvey silenced him with a look.  
  
“I don't feel that way about you!” he tried again.   
  
“Right, you just get naked and hop into bed with a lot of guys.”  
  
“I might,” Mike said weakly, falling back onto the bed and covering his head with a pillow. “Now go away and let me be miserable and mortified in peace,” he said, voice muffled by the pillow.  
  
“No.”  
  
Mike lifted the pillow and stared at him.  
  
“My bed. I'm not going anywhere.”  
  
“Fine,” Mike said, tossing the pillow at him and getting up.  
  
Harvey had been in bed with Mike all night, but he hadn't got a good look at him naked until—  
  
“Stop staring at my ass.”  
  
Harvey drug his gaze up to the back of Mike's head.  _How did he--_  
  
“Mirror,” he said, then caught Harvey's eye in said mirror.  
  
“You like it.”  
  
“What? No I don't!”  
  
“Your mouth says no, but your hard-on says yes.”   
  
Mike twisted his head around to stare at Harvey.  
  
“Also visible in mirror.”   
  
*  
Mike shuffled around in his overnight bag and pulled out a pair of jeans. He refused to look at Harvey as he stepped into them, then sat on the edge of his own bed and put his head between his legs. “Oh, God, it was a self-fulfilling prophesy,” he whimpered, getting a very clear mental image of Jessica winking at him.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Harvey sat up and stared hard at him.  
  
“Nothing,” Mike muttered, straightening up.   
  
Harvey rolled out of bed and sat next to Mike on his. “It's not that bad,” he said, clapping Mike on the shoulder. “All you did was try to seduce your irresistible boss. Could've happened to anyone.”  
  
Mike snorted. “Right.”  
  
Teasing had stopped being fun, so Harvey tried a different route. “Tell you what,” he said, nudging Mike until he looked up, “I have some damn good blackmail on you right now.”  
  
Mike glared and started to speak, Harvey held up a hand and slid it over Mike's jaw. “How about I even the playing field a little?” He tilted Mike's head and kissed him.  
  
*  
  
“I don't see how that's fair,” Mike said, still a little breathless, one hand knotted in Harvey's shirt.  
  
“What do you-” Harvey's brow furrowed.  
  
“All you did was kiss me,” he shrugged, “I was naked in your bed.”  
  
Harvey considered that solemnly. “You're right.”  
  
“I know I'm right.”  
  
“Do you have any suggestions on remedying the situation? In the interest of fairness, of course.”  
  
Mike cracked a grin. “I'm sure I could think of a few things.”  
  
*  
  
Harvey's mouth was on Mike's stomach, nipping at tender skin right below his belly button, when his phone rang. He growled, making Mike shiver, and ignored it. He crawled up Mike's body, kissing and grazing with teeth on his way to Mike's mouth.  
  
“Phone,” Mike said against his lips as the obnoxious thing continued to chirrup at him.  
  
“Don't care,” Harvey slid a hand behind Mike's head, then grunted a protest when he pulled away, stretching across the bed to grab the damn phone off the nightstand. Harvey couldn't resist smacking a hand across the denim-clad ass that was suddenly in his face.  
  
Mike shrugged, “It might be important,” and answered the phone before handing it over without a word. Like Mike knew he was debating on throwing the thing across the room instead of answering.  
  
“What?” Harvey said, glaring at Mike.  
  
“Excuse me?”   
  
“Jessica. Sorry, Mike was just being impertinent,” Harvey said. Mike mouthed  _Impertinent?_  and leaned closer so he could hear their conversation. “What do you need?”  
  
“Is everything alright?”   
  
“Yes, it's fi-INE.” Harvey knew that Mike had moved behind him and propped his head on his shoulder; he'd noticed when Mike stretched arms around his waist, but he hadn't expected questing hands to slip beneath the waistband of his pajama pants. He arched into the touch and threw his head back, until he remembered the phone at his ear.  
  
He nudged Mike roughly with an elbow and glared at his all-too-innocent face as hands moved back into safer territory. He was going to kill him.  
  
*  
  
“Hello? Harvey, are you—“  
  
“I'm fine,” he said gruffly.  
  
“We need you back ASAP.” Jessica got right to the point.  
  
Harvey sighed, “Let me guess, Louis screwed up.”  
  
“Louis is doing fine.”  
  
Harvey heard a muttered “for once,” in his other ear.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“Nothing,” Harvey gave Mike a severe look, which was quite a feat considering that they were both half naked and that Mike had just tweaked his left nipple.   
  
“Mike just did a great impression of you.” Mike started waving his hands violently,  _No! Shut up!_  Harvey fought back a grin.  
  
“Is that so? I really need to see that.”  
  
“Sure. We'll put him in a dress, go the whole nine.”  
  
“That sounds promising,” Jessica said, amused, then turned all-business. “We need you for another case. I'd rather not discuss the details over the phone, so let's suffice to say that it's right up your alley. And very time sensitive.”  
  
“Right. We'll be there.”  
  
*  
After getting off of the phone with the airline, Harvey broke out of Mike's arms with a businesslike “Pack up.”  
  
“I thought that we—“  
  
“So did I,” Harvey interrupted, grabbing his suit, “but the flight leaves in less than an hour and we'll be pushing it to get there on time as it is.”   
  
Mike sighed, clearly pouting. He rubbed an aching temple as he started to gather the clothes he'd strewn across the room when he was drunk the night before. Harvey tried not to smile.   
  
He walked up to Mike, crooked a finger in his belt loop, and tugged. Mike turned, pliant in his arms (Harvey could get used to that), and kissed him, one hand mussing his already-horrific bedhead.  
  
Harvey pulled away before he was tempted to say  _Screw the plane and screw work. I just wanna screw Mike._   
  
It didn't help that Mike shared a similar philosophy at the moment.  
  
*  
  
The plane ride home was even more uncomfortable than the one to Miami. Harvey felt a tension headache building at the base of his skull. Mike wouldn't stop fidgeting. He was starting to miss the exhausted associate that had drooled on him in the earlier trip. It was putting Harvey on edge, as was the fact that, every restless little move that Mike made lifted his t-shirt and bared a line if his midriff, which kept reminding him that Mike wasn't wearing underwear. It was very distracting.   
  
“Come on, Harvey, why not?” Mike continued their earlier argument.  
  
He pursed his lips and gave Mike a patented  _no means no and this is non negotiable_  look.  
  
“But-”  
  
“But nothing, we're not having sex on a plane.”  
  
Mike rolled his eyes.  
  
“If you're so hard up, go find a stewardess or someone to give you a hand.”  
  
“I don't  _want_ ,” Mike started vehemently, then changed it upon seeing Harvey's smug grin. “Maybe I will.” He crossed his arms and continued to fidget, leg bouncing in a nervous tic.  
*  
After a long, boring plane ride, waiting impatiently for Mike to change into a wrinkles suit at the airport, and a taxi trip through midday traffic, Harvey was actually relieved to get back to Pearson Hardman. The feeling didn't last. A sense of foreboding grew as he and Mike were met with averted eyes or respectful nods. Harvey felt like they were walking into a trap. That feeling only grew stronger when he saw Jessica waiting outside his office, grim-faced and standing poker-straight.  
  
“Are we in trouble?” Mike murmured at his shoulder.  
  
“Not that I'm aware of,” Harvey said as Jessica ushered him into his own damn office along with Mike and Donna.  
  
“I believe that an apology is necessary,” Jessica said, turning to face Harvey.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Mike blurted, giving Harvey a furtive glance before noticing Jessica's calculating look. He suddenly found the view very interesting.  
  
“As I was saying,” Jessica turned from Mike, “I apologize for the lack of professionalism shown in dealing with the,” Jessica chose her words carefully, “story that circulated about the two of you.”  
  
Mike had turned back from the window. Harvey nodded, suddenly uncomfortable with the vivid tactile memory of Mike stretched beneath him, that Jessica's words evoked.  
  
“The culprit,” Jessica snaked a sidelong glance at Donna, who dropped her head to mask a small smile, “came forward and has been properly chastised. And there will be zero tolerance for a repeat of this...event.”   
  
“What's that about?” Mike asked at his ear, nodding to Donna's smirk. Harvey was about to give a  _hell if I know_  shrug when he saw it. Judging by Mike's sharp intake of breath, he noticed Jessica smile and wink at Donna, too, before her face smoothed back into an unreadable mask.  
  
They're up to something,” Harvey whispered as the two talked quietly before Jessica handed over the case file and left.  
  
*  
  
Donna bit her lip. She wasn't sure of the proper etiquette in this specific situation. Maybe she should just...  
  
“I'm the one that wrote 'A Porno in Three Acts,' starring Harvey Spectator and Mike Rass.”  _That's one way to do it,_  Donna mused, enjoying Harvey and Mike's gobsmacked expressions far too much.   
  
“I knew it!” Mike said.  
  
“No, you didn't.”  
  
“No, I didn't. But you were on my list of suspects!”  
  
“I should have known,” Harvey said, moving far out of reach of Mike's flailing arms.  
  
Donna noticed the move and misinterpreted it. “There's no reason for you to feel uncomfortable around each other. It was just a joke.”  
  
Harvey opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but Mike beat him.  
  
“I'm not uncomfortable,” he gave a fake laugh, hesitated, “okay, fine, it's weird. And I'm suddenly very uncomfortable so I'm just going to go work on something.” Mike spoke quickly, bumping into Harvey and giving him a quick grin that Donna couldn't see before beating a hasty retreat to his cubicle.  
  
“I am sorry,” Donna said, serious and a little worried.  
  
Harvey nodded. “I've got work to do.” He knew he was being petty, but Mike had just given him the opportunity to work some sweet, sweet revenge. So he was going to milk it for ever it was worth.  
  
*  
  
Later in the day, Harvey ran into Mike on his way out of his office.  
  
“What've you got?”  
  
“There's this, uh, the thing is—“  
  
“Spit it out,” Harvey said, then noticed their captive audience when Mike tilted his head in Donna's direction.  _Ah. That explains it._  He never would have though Mike was that good an actor, but he had to give him credit. He stammered, fumbling over words, refusing to look at him, and he even blushed before giving Harvey the information he needed and walking away very quickly.  
  
Donna frowned at him. “Is he—“  
  
“He'll be fine,” Harvey shrugged, “he'll get over it.”  
  
Donna pursed her lips and Harvey had to fight a grin.  _Sweet revenge._  
  
*  
It was a long day, tedious work mixed in with picking on Donna. Harvey kept himself in check, and refused to look at Mike any more than was absolutely necessary. Otherwise he would have given up their little game or been tempted to bend Mike over his desk and—never mind that.  _Work. Think of work. Not sex with Mike._   
  
  
  
*  
“Finally,” Mike's groan was almost obscene as he dropped onto the couch in Harvey's office, exhausted.  
  
“Finally,” Harvey agreed, glancing around to make sure they were indeed alone before pulling him back up by an arm and sliding that arm to his own hip. He stumbled back a step when Mike pressed forward, kissing him.  
  
*  
  
Donna took a sip of coffee, steeling herself to confront the two idiots and make them stop acting like...idiots. She stopped short on her way to Harvey's office. They were making out like teenagers.  
  
She sloshed coffee almost burning herself.  _Are they—oh—they_  are.  _Oooh, they were trying to make me feel ba—I am so getting them back for—oh, okay._  Donna fumbled for her phone and snapped a picture before it slipped out of her hand and landed with a rather loud  _thunk_  in the deserted building.  
  
Harvey and Mike jerked around with matching expressions of surprise, and Donna waved and picked up her phone. Harvey was on the way to the door, straightening his tie, when she looked up. He leaned out the door and growled an exasperated “you're fired.”  
  
“No I'm not,” Donna said cheerfully, pressing a few buttons on her phone before showing him her new background.  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Mike, we're leaving.” And walked past her.  
  
Donna smirked at Mike as he followed Harvey out, buttoning his shirt.  
  
“You kids have fun.”  
  
“Trust me,” Harvey said, waiting for Mike to catch up and grabbing him by the tie before starting back down the hall, “we will.”  
  
“You're welcome!” she called after them.   
*  
Donna grinned at their backs. Mission accomplished. And damn if that wasn't some of her best writing. At least the guys had finally taken the hint:

  
  
_“I knew you cared,” Mike said smugly, tugging Harvey's head down for a slow, lazy kiss.  
  
“Mmm,” Harvey hummed noncommittally, nuzzling Mike's neck. “As long as you think that, you'll work harder for me.”  
  
Mike snorted. “So this is just your way of keeping me in line?” He ran his fingers through Harvey's hair. He liked the way it looked all mussed and tousled.  
  
“Damn straight,” Harvey said with no sense of irony, “now go to sleep or you're fired.”  
  
Mike rolled onto his side and pulled Harvey's arm around his waist. “I love you too.”  
  
“Shut up,” Harvey said and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck._   


  



End file.
